


Space Age: Humanity's First Contact

by athousandwinds



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandwinds/pseuds/athousandwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one should die alone. [AU of The Satan Pit where the Doctor died]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Age: Humanity's First Contact

"Considering that Earth's first official contact with non-terrestrial lifeforms was violent and threatening, it's not like it's a surprise that after the Sycorax invasion, Earth started building up its military."

Eloise yawned and wondered if it was even worth staying up. The documentary was shuk, some bollocks about the twenty-first century.

"By the time humans developed the kind of tech they needed to leave the solar system, they had weapons like no one else in the outer spiral arm."

The talking head looked genuinely sad about this, or maybe she was good at faking it. She added, "Earth was so paranoid by then that just about no one pointed out they were acting like the Sycorax."

Eloise squinted at the name below the woman's face. The reception was chakked, she'd have to yell at the landlord.

_Rose Tiler_, she read. _Campaigner for Friends of the Ood_. Fucking bleeding hearts.

She went to bed. She'd better things to do than watch some chakked-up propaganda piece.

\---

 

"I saw it," Ida said the next morning.

"I thought you couldn't get ABM in Jevcek." Rose brought her cup of themis tea up to her lips. On the vid screen, Ida shrugged with apparent indifference.

"Oh, it was just a case of rerouting a few cables. I caught the last five minutes, anyway. They got your name wrong."

Rose hadn't been on in the last five minutes. She smiled. "My mum would tell me to sue."

"Wouldn't work," said Ida, who was immensely practical and almost, but not entirely, without a sense of humour. Rose took another sip of tea and smiled wider.

"How's the expedition going?"

"Not bad," Ida said critically. She launched into a commentary on fires in the basement, angry arguments among the scientists and ice monsters. Her description was crisp, matter-of-fact and unbiased. Still, it sounded like an adventure, and Ida was enjoying herself. As if in answer, something very small sparked inside Rose, but the weight of early-morning tiredness blanketed it.

She sipped her tea.

\---

 

It had been five years ago, now. They'd escaped it – him – whatever _it_ was – and were cruising through the stars. Rose couldn't breathe.

"Two and a half hours," Zack said, his voice hoarse. There had been many deaths to report. "We'll be on Earth in two and a half hours."

The last one had been the Doctor's. Zack had hesitated before he said it and for one brief, heart-stopping moment, Rose had actually believed he wasn't going to. Because. It wasn't true.

"Deceased at – " they weren't sure, but they could estimate – "1200 hours. With honours."

Rose hunched her shoulders. Beside her, Ida sat as still as a statue, stone or iron. She hadn't moved since Zack'd started listing the deaths. Rose had cried herself dry. Her mascara had run, blackening her cheeks like soot. It didn't matter. It didn't. Matter.

"Earth descent commencing," Zack announced an interminable length of time later. "Is everyone all right?"

Ida stirred. "No," she said.

"No." Zack sighed. "Stupid question, really."

Ida gave him a tiny half-smile that didn't reach her eyes. The rocket began to screech and whine; Rose was almost jolted out of her seat.

"Captain Zachary Crossflane, report," came a tinny voice.

"Here." Zack's voice was strained, even worse than when he'd had only one bolt left and an army beating down his door.

"We request your presence in the Abned Admiralty building at 0900 hours tomorrow, Earth time."

"Yes, sir."

They were out on the street in minutes. It was freezing cold, midnight and Rose only had a t-shirt. Somewhere high above them, a sick-smelling smoke puffed out of a chimney, purple-black in the night.

"Rose." Ida nodded at her. "You'll have to stay with us in the barracks tonight."

"OK."

She'd stayed with them in the barracks night after night after night, as Zack went through rigorous interviews: _where_ was Tobias Zed, _where_ were his security personnel, _where_ were the Ood, they were expensive nowadays. Inflation.

Ida and Danny would disappear for hours on end, trying to come up with explanations for why they'd not come back with the fuel source they'd promised, why they'd let untrained personnel out onto the planet, why they'd panicked and run. They were diagnosed as having hallucinations, as having PTSD; the Admiralty was easily convinced that the stress of pioneer life had got to them. It was harder to believe the truth.

Eventually, Danny said:

"It was the Ood, sir. I think they picked something up on that planet. They went mad and started killing the crew. I think you're right, sir, it was the shock that made us so difficult to deal with."

That was easier, too.

They met in a café, the four of them, a few weeks later. Zack shrugged. "I've been promoted. Full captain."

If they'd been a normal group, they would have congratulated him.

"I told them you were from Xanadu XI, Rose." He began to sketch out a map of the system on a napkin. Danny laughed.

"That explains a lot."

"Xanadu XI?"

"The system has eleven planets, all habitable. XI's the one closest to its sun and it's pretty backward." Zack glanced up. "Sorry."

Rose swallowed. "No. That's – great. Thanks."

They split up soon after that. Zack went on a new mission, with a new crew and came back with a commendation for coolness under fire. Danny became something big in the corporate ethics business. She lived with Ida, getting support for a university scholarship.

She did History. Her course focused on twenty-first century Earth.

\---

 

-2000-2100 census forms-  
-Search String-  
-Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Prentice Tyler-  
-b**-**-1967 d**-**-2035  
-Marital status  
-widowed  
-Children:  
-one daughter, Rose  
-missing, declared deceased **-**-2014

Recent edits:  
-Beloved Mother

\---

 

Food in this century was practically plastic. Rose chewed it thoughtfully and wondered if it was supposed to be meat. It wasn't. It was carrot.

Well, it was orange.

"How did the meeting with Fujik go?"

"OK." Rose frowned at her fork. "I'm pretty sure he'll sponsor the protection laws we're trying to push through, if he doesn't donate."

Ida ate a piece of what might have been cauliflower. "Good. I think the Ood'll like it."

Rose nodded. The blue light of the fire was dying down, casting strange shadows over Ida's face. She'd come back from the expedition exhausted and with a torn tendon in her knee. The lines of pain hadn't yet faded and they made her look older.

"You didn't tell me what happened," she said.

Ida laughed, a ghost of it wisping from her mouth. "It was ridiculous, honestly. I was running away from – I wasn't looking where I was going and I fell down a hole."

"Outside the base?"

Ida let out a breath. "Yeah. I couldn't walk, so I ended up lying there for about half an hour. In the _snow_, of all things." She said something in an undertone, mostly to herself, then stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go to bed."

"OK."

When she'd gone, Rose stood up and went over to the fire. She turned it off with a snap. Ida had said, "No one should die alone." She'd been thinking of Scooti Manista. Rose'd been thinking of the Doctor, who wouldn't have died alone on a stupid bloody planet, who wouldn't have suffocated or frozen to death or whatever it was without anyone there to recognise it, without anyone there to _care_, if Ida had gone down with him. She loved Ida. She did. She was her best friend.

Rose was tired of crying for the Doctor.

\---

 

Keyword à SearchString: Code%9%&amp;%Doctor%&amp;%blue%box

638249262461 matches

à Refine your search?

\---

 

They had dinner together the next night and the next, and the next. The food was awful; even Ida, who subsisted mainly on energy bars, noticed, but the conversation got easier.

"What's on the vid?"

"No idea. Put it on, will you?"

Ida jumped up to go and get a bottle of vatavia from the kitchen. When she returned, they watched an old-new film for a while, with star-crossed lovers and jealous spouses. Ida mostly ignored it, sketching plans for an adjustment to her skip-bike. Rose looked at her, all her concentration centred on the drawing blossoming beneath her hands. The light played tricks on Ida; it made her look cold.

Rose switched off the vid.

"No one should have to die alone," she said, and when Ida looked up in surprise, she kissed her.

It was all very calm and warm and methodical; just two tired people being not-tired-yet together. No shirts, no trousers, no I love yous. They weren't those sorts of people any more.

Ida's breathing was harsh in the quiet, dark room and Rose stroked a hand over her bare shoulder. "So, what's up with this new expedition?" This meant that it was all right.

"Well – " Ida stopped, started again. "It's here on Earth. Archaeological dig. New Britannia, in the islands. I'm going as Scientific Advisor." She paused again, and in a voice that said the answer didn't matter all that much, honestly, added, "I thought you might be interested."

Rose's hand hesitated. She'd been here five years: Abned Admiralty; Abned University; Friends of the Ood, Abned branch. Five years ago, she'd've gone mad at the thought of being stuck in one place for this long. Maybe it was time for a change. She could feel the excitement bubbling up inside her.

God, who'd've thought going home would ever be an adventure?

"All right," she said, a note in her voice sounding strange from disuse. "Who do I talk to?"

She could feel Ida's smile against her breast. "I'll tell you in the morning."

"Ugh." She had to get up then, too. Rose grimaced into her pillow.

Still. Her blood was quickening and her mouth couldn't help curving upwards. She grinned at the ceiling, thinking of grey concrete and starless skies.

No place like home.


End file.
